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^ Store : a Play in 
One Act: by Elizabeth 
Kellam 



In the Vassar Series of Plays 
Edited by Gertrude Buck 



Samuel French: Publisher 

28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York 

LONDON 

Samuel French, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street, Strand 
PRICE THIRTY-FIVE CENTS 



The Store: a Play in 
One Act: by Elizabeth 
Kellam 



In the Vassar Series of Plays 
Edited by Gertrude Buck 



Samuel French: Publisher 

28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York 



LONDON 



Samuel French, Ltd, 

26 Southampton Street, Strand 









i\ 



Copyright, 1921, by Samuel French 
All Rights Reserved 

m "THE STORE" is fully protected by copyright, and all 
rights are reserved. 

Permission to act, to read publicly, or to make any use of 
this play must be obtained from Samuel French, 28-30 West 
38th St., New York. 

It may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a roy- 
alty of five dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel 
French one week before the date when the play is given. 

Professional rates quoted on application. 

Whenever the play is produced the following notice must 
appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the 
play: "Produced by special arrangement with Samuel 
French of New York." 



Cl.0 59538 

U L t* v '- L ' 



<*« ' 



THE VASSAR SERIES OF PLAYS 

Every play in this series has been written by a 
member of the Play- Writing Class at Vassar Col- 
lege. But each play as printed is the product of a 
group-activity. Not merely an individual seated at 
a desk, but a community working together in a 
theater, is responsible for it in its final form. 

Some of these plays have been "tried out" by the 
Vassar Dramatic Workshop and some by the Com- 
munity Theatre of Poughkeepsie, New York. By 
the cooperative efforts of all who were associated in 
these enterprises — actors, committee workers and 
financial supporters — these plays have been given a 
sympathetic and intelligent production before audi- 
ences also intelligent and sympathetic, whose reac- 
tion has afforded the writers much valuable criti- 
cism. In the preliminary readings and rehearsals, 
also, occasional weak points which had escaped the 
ordeal of class criticism came to light and were 
strengthened by the author's revision. In fact, the 
plays as they appear in this series are literally a col- 
laboration of the writers with innumerable friendly 
critics in the play-writing class, the cast and the au- 
dience. And it would be ungracious to put the fruits 
of this collaboration at the service of the public with- 
out grateful acknowledgment to all those who have 
in any way helped to establish and carry on the Vas- 
sar Dramatic Workshop or the Community Theatre 
of Poughkeepsie. 

In recent years there has b€*n an incre^dfif lie- 

3 



4 THE VASSAR SERIES OF PLAYS 

mand for well-written, dramatically effective one-act 
plays, suitable for production by semi-professional 
companies or by amateur organizations of serious 
purpose and some degree of training. To aid in, 
supplying this demand is the purpose of the Vassar 
Series of Plays. Other plays written by members 
of the Play- Writing Class at Vassar College may be 
secured in typewritten form by application to The 
Workshop Bureau of Plays, Vassar College. 

All the plays in this series are protected by copy- 
right. A royalty of five dollars for each production 
must be paid to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th 
Street, New York City, at least one week before the 
date of the performance. 



THE STORE 
PRODUCING THE PLAY 

"The Store" has six good character parts. If 
these are presented as real people, each with his own 
marked individuality, the play can hardly fail to 
amuse and delight any audience. 

But there are some further interesting" possibili- 
ties in this play. The family situation which it rep- 
resents can be so graphically worked out by means 
of the careful placing of characters on the stage that 
the audience not only hears the successive attacks 
upon "Pa Dicky" by Grace and George, and finally 
by Mary, but sees these attacks and their complete 
repulse, one after another, almost as if they were 
advances and retreats upon a battlefield. 

The decisive moment in this struggle is when 
Mary, fighting for herself and for George, after 
Grace and "Ma" have deserter! her, suddenly real- 
izes, at the height of her exultation in her coming 
freedom, that when she is gone Ma will have double 
work to do, — and refuses to buy escape from drudg- 
ery at such a price. The picture on the stage at this 
point — just before Mary exclaims, "We can't, 
George," should place Mary almost in the center 
front of the stage. To gain this position, she should 
move impulsively from the door toward her mother 
on the words "Ma, oh, Ma!" George has slipped 
into her former place by the door, his hand on the 
knob, standing on one foot, with impatience to be 
srone and looking anxiously at her as the captain of 
the expedition. Ma sits in her chair by the stove, 
also looking at Mary, in an attitude of anguished 

5 



6 THE STORE 

appeal. Mr. Dicky is planted opposite to Mary, 
watching her with an expression of triumph. Grace 
and Harry sit together at the other side of the stove 
from Ma. Their eyes are also focussed on Mary. 

The effect of tension in this scene and of con- 
centration upon Mary as the central figure may be 
contrasted with the curtain-picture, in which Mr. 
Dicky occupies the center foreground and dominates 
the stage, Mary, Ma, Grace and Harry suggesting 
by their attitudes their complete subjugation. The 
point that things remain just as they were before 
the revolt of the family may be cleverly indicated by 
placing the characters in the curtain-scene precisely 
as they were placed in the scene just after the en- 
trance of Mr. Dicky. 

The underlying tragedy in this family insurrection 
will lose none of its effect if relieved by the humor- 
ous touches for which the play gives abundant op- 
portunity. Harry may be played almost as a broad- 
farce character; Grace, George and Ma, as well as 
Pa, have strong comedy values. But Mary should be 
acted so as to arouse the real sympathy of the audi- 
ence. 

The costumes for this play are extremely simple. 
They should not, however, be grotesque, or raise a 
laugh at first sight in the audience. The setting may 
include all the articles suggested in the stage direc- 
tions or be much simplified. A stove, an old rocking- 
chair for Ma, two or three wooden stools not higher 
than an ordinary chair, and perhaps a wooden bench, 
two or three barrels and boxes and some shelves con- 
stitute all the articles which are absolutely necessary. 
Instead of actual cans, etc., on the shelves, a strip 
of paper on which rows of cans, boxes and bottles 
are painted may be pasted along the shelves. In 
general, the setting and costumes should not call at- 
tention to themselves, but be subordinate to the situ- 
ation and the characters. 



THE STORE 7 

This play should move rapidly through the talk 
of Ma and George, cues being picked up sharply so 
as to carry the necessary explanations of Pa's early 
history without any sense of drag. The scene be- 
tween the two girls begins very slowly, to emphasize 
their extreme fatigue. But after Mary breaks the 
news of the new branch store, the movement be- 
comes more rapid and, with Harry's entrance, is ac- 
celerated to marked swiftness. Mr. Dicky's appear- 
ance checks the flow of talk, but it runs faster again 
as soon as he makes his offer to Harry. From this 
point on the tempo is quick, so that Mary's pauses, 
when she makes up her mind to stay, have their full 
significance. After she says, "Oh, that's all right, 
Pa, that's all right," the business should be as rapid 
as possible until the exit of George. The few move- 
ments made after his exit must be deliberate, and 
the descent of the curtain slow, so that the effect of 
the final tableau is not blurred for the audience. 

Gertrude Buck. 



CHARACTERS 

Mr. Dicky. 

Mrs. Dicky. 

Mary Dicky 1 

Grace Dicky r their children. 

George Dicky J 

Harry, Grade's lover. 



First produced by the Vassar Dramatic Work- 
shop, May 3, 191 9. 



8 



T 



Scene: The back room of the Dicky grocery 
store. Shelves beginning at the right-hand cor- 
ner extend from the floor to the ceiling about 
halfway across the back of the stage. These 
are crozvded with boxes, cans, jars, suggestive 
of wholesale stock rather than the retail lines 
displayed on the shelves of the store proper. 
There is a large, air-tight stove a little to the 
left of the center back and next to it a high 
desk with a green-shaded electric light dropped 
over it. A high window is above the desk. On 
the right a door leads into the street, on the left, 
one into the store proper. Large boxes, bar- 
rels, crates, and sacks stand around everywhere. 
There are a stool and a chair or two around the 
stove and a ladder for getting up to the shelves. 

Time : About nine o'clock of a Saturday night. 

As the curtain rises, Mrs. Dicky is seen 
standing over a group of boxes and baskets, 
from which packages and bundles of all sorts 
protrude, very evidently grocery orders waiting 
for delivery. She is a small, dumpish sort of a 
person of middle age, with thin, gray hair 
drawn back from her face, rosy cheeks and a 
mouth which she constantly purses up. She 
zvears a red crocheted shawl over her shoul- 

9 



i« THE STORE 

ders and is busily checking off items on the list 
she holds. 

Mrs. Dicky. Six cans of soup, coffee, that's 
here. Beans. Where are them beans now ? (Pause) 
Beans — half a pound of cheese. Sakes! What a 
sight of canned goods ! That's a customer after Pa's 
own heart. Two loaves of bread. That's right. 
Starch 

(The street door opens with a rush and a boy of 
about fifteen bounces in, slamming the door be- 
hind him. He is blue-eyed, freckled and snub- 
nosed, with short, black, shoe-brush hair. ' He 
has a knitted cap pulled down over his ears and 
a mackinaw on.) 

George. Hello, Ma! 

Mrs. D. (Not looking up from her work) You 
back again? 

George. Yap! All this stuff got to go out! 
Gosh! What's Pa think a Saturday night's for, 
any ways ? 

Mrs. D. Seems to me you might know by now, 
George, that Saturday night's a busy time in this 
store. Won't take you no time at all to get them 
things out. Farthest ain't more'n one or two squares 
away. 

George. What's Pa have to go and have such a 
late delivery for? A fellow can't never git to the 
movies. 

Mrs. D. Your Pa's looking out for customers. 
He gets more this way. 

George. (Kicking savagely at a box) Blame take 
the old customers, anyway ! Always deliverin' and 
deliverin' ! Why, Jim Connihan, he can go to the 
movies every afternoon and evening, too. Gosh! I 
hate this store! 



THE STORE 11 

Mrs. D. How about getting out with them or- 
ders? Foiks'll be telephoning if you don't get a 
move on. 

George. Aw, say, can't a feller warm up ? (Go- 
ing over and standing in front of the stove.) 

Mrs. D. (Anxious in a second, coming up and 
feeling under his coat) Where's your scarf? 
Haven't lost it, have you ? You'll catch your death 
of cold one of these days. 

George. (Impulsively throwing an arm around 
his mother's shoulder) Say, Ma, you don't honestly 
like it, do you? 

Mrs. D. Like what? 

George. This working in the store all the time. 

Mrs. D. (With a little sigh) Don't many of us 
do what we like, George. The work's got to be 
done and I guess it's up to you and me and the girls 
to do it. 

George. But Pa could hire folks in to help same 
as Jim Connihan's father does. 

Mrs. D. That would cost your Pa a sight of 
money. The store wouldn't pay half so well as it 
does now with us what don't have to be paid all 
helping. 

George. Well, what's the money good for? 
Don't have no fun with it. 

Mrs. D. But your Pa's so proud of the store, 
George. He thinks we love working around here 
same as he does. 

George. (Under his breath) Well, we don't. 

Mrs. D. And he's got a right to be proud of his 
store when I think how he started out. Nothing 
but a shack and him using the front room to sell 
newspapers and a few cheap candies in, while me 
and the girls lived in the back room. That was be- 
fore you was born. Now look what he's got—a 
grand big corner store, with plate-glass windows and 
him carrying a fancy line of canned goods and for- 



12 THE STORE 

eign fruits, while we're living like princes in the flat 
upstairs. 

George. He can be proud ; it ain't that, but he's 
mean, Ma. He won't let me work at my machines 
and things out in the shed no longer. Says I don't 
do the deliverin' decent when I've got them on my 
mind. 

Mrs. D. He didn't have no time when he was a 
boy, I guess. He's been a hard worker, your Pa 
has. He's been saving his money till now he's got a 
good pile laid by, and one of these days he's going 
to open a branch store on Cherry Street. Won't that 
be flossy, now? 

George. (In horror) A branch store? Gosh! 
That means more work for me ! 

Mrs. D. (Resignedly) It will mean a sight of 
work! 

Voice. (From the store side) Ma ! Oh, Ma ! 

Mrs. D. Yes, I'm coming. 

(Enter the Dicky girls through the swing doors.) 

Mary. Pa's closing up out there. He wants 
you to check up the register and slips. 

Mrs. D. Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming. You get 
a move on, George. I want to see you get started. 
Your Pa'll be scolding me for keeping you. 

George. (Picking up a big delivery basket) Well, 
I'm going, ain't I ? 

(Exit George, slamming door behind him-.) 

Mrs. D. (Feeling round) Now where are my 
glasses ? 

Mary. Feel in your skirt pocket, Ma. 

Mrs. D. Sure enough. You girls keep that fire 
up. (Exit Mrs. Dicky J 



THE STORE 13 

(The Dicky girls have plumped themselves dow,4 
on chairs near the stove. They are rather pretty 
girls with nice complexions, but to-night they 
are pale, tired and drawn-looking. Mary, the 
older one, around twenty-three or four, is losing 
her good looks fast. Grace, the younger one, 
is around nineteen. Her light brown hair and 
snappy black eyes make her most attractive. 
Their clothes are mussed and show hard wear 
and tear. One wears a worn, dark-blue sweater, 
the other a gray one. They have leather cuff 
protectors at their zurists. They sit on their 
chairs relaxed and rather crumpled up, suggest- 
ing complete exhaustion. After a few minutes' 
silence, Mary straightens up and stretches.) 

Mary. Tired? 

Grace. Awful tired. 

Mary. Honestly, I didn't think I could wait on 
another soul. 

Grace. Ain't Saturday nights something 
fierce ? 

Mary. (With a groan) You bet! 

Grace. Why can't Pa get someone extra in to 
help? 

Mary. Costs too much, silly ! 

Grace. He's making money hand over fist. I'm 
sick and tired of this talk about Pa not being able 
to afford things ! 

Mary. You know what he's saving up for? 

Grace. (Brightening up) What? Has he told 
you? A new house? 

Mary. (Bitterly) A new house, your grand- 
mother ! I overheard him talking to Ma. He's get- 
ting ready to open up a branch store near that swell 
new residence district. 

Grace. A branch store ? Good L@rd ! 

Mary. That's what I say. 



14 THE STORE 

Grace. As if one store wasn't enough. It's be- 
ing the death of us as it is. 

Mary. That's it. (Repeats monotonously) Be- 
ing the death of us, being the death of us, being 

Grace. (Who has been poking the fire savagely, 
slams the door with a bang) Aw, shut up ! 

Mary. Don't know as I shall. What have you 
got to say about it ? You've got Harry. You're get- 
ting out of the store. 

Grace. (Smiling all over) Yes, I've got Harry. 

Mary. When you going to tell Ma and Pa about 
Harry? Can't keep a secret forever. 

Grace. (Shyly) Harry's coming to-night. 
We're going to tell them then. Pa's always in a good 
humor Saturdays when trade's been big. 

Mary. (Dully) And when you're married, you 
won't be livin' home with us. 

Grace. (Leaning forward, her eyes snapping 
with excitement) You bet not ! I saw the cutest 
little flat last night, Mary, up on Center Street above 
a blacksmith shop, and we're going to have that. And 
every morning I'll be going to market. Other folks 
can wait on me for a while! I'll not be doing the 
weighing out and tying up and making change ! 

Mary. (Maliciously) You'll be feeling pretty 
swell, won't you ? 

Grace. And then Saturday nights Harry will be 
coming home with a pay envelope and him and me 
will be going out to a show. 

Mary. Gee, on a Saturday night! 

Grace. I won't be running my legs off in that 
old store. I'll have Harry and my nice little flat 
and the shows to go to. 

Mary. (Rousing herself) And what'll I be do- 
ing while you're having such a grand time? 

Grace. You? Oh! Why, I guess-— you'll be 
itill in the store. 

Mary. Yes, that's just where I'll be. Working 



THE STORE 15 

twice as hard and long- because you're gone. With 
millions of Saturday nights ahead of me. 

Grace. ^ Mary, why don't you get out of it same 
as I'm doing? 

Mary. How can I get out of it ? Haven't got a 
beau like you have. 

Grace. You might gtt one. Couldn't get as fine 
a one as Harry. He's a terrible fine man, Mary. 

Mary. How old do you think I am, anyway? 
When a girl gets to be twenty-four and ain't ever 
been asked to get married, she ain't to get no further 
chance, as I see. 

Grace. You might work out, in someone else's 
store. 

Mary. There's Ma. She's working the skin off 
her fingers as it is. Where'd she be with both of us 
gone? 

Grace. (Hotly) Pa would simply have to hire 
someone in to help. 

Mary. He wouldn't. Not anyways until Ma was 
about in her grave. It ain't only the money with 
Pa, though that's the main thing. It's his pride. 
He's real puffed up about having all his family work- 
ing in the store for him. 

Grace. Well, I, for one, am getting out. You 
and George could, too, if you'd only show some fight. 

Mary. Gee, I wish George could get out! 

Grace. Don't it seem a shame that Pa won't let 
him go on with his schooling? 

Mary. He could be one of these engineers some 
day. Why, his teacher told Ma he was one of the 
smartest boys with his hands he'd ever seen. He's 
always messing around with wire and wheels and 
things making something. He ought to have a 
chance. 

Grace. Well, he ain't going to get it. Not if 
Pa knows it. 

Mary. Pa's training him up to take his place. 



16 THE STORE 

Can't you see George in a few years out there m 
the store rubbing his hands together same as Pa 
does? (Imitating the suave salesman) "Nice day, 
Mrs. Thompson. Yes, eggs is high but they're go- 
ing higher. Better buy now." That's what George's 
coming to. Lord, ain't it fierce? 

Grace. You've got to get out of it, Mary, you 
and George. What could Pa do if we put up a fight? 
There's the three of us against the one of him and 
Harry would fight with us. 

Mary. I'd like to see you fight him. He's our 
Pa in the first place and he's always had his own 
way. You wait. Just you 

(A knock is heard at the outer door.) 

Grace. (Excitedly) That's him. That's Harry 
now! (Sings out) Come on in. 

(Enter Harry. He is tall and thin, good-looking in 
a way. His hair suggests oiling and his cheeks 
much scrubbing. He wears a shiny, blue suit 
much too blue and a flashy necktie.) 

Harry. Hello ! 

Grace. (Swinging around on her stool and fac- 
ing the door) Hello ! 

Harry. (As he comes into the room, slipping out 
of his overcoat and dumping it and his hat on a box) 
Hello, Mary. 

Mary. Hello, Harry! 

Harry. (Leaning down and smacking Grace on 
the cheek) How's the kid? 

Grace. (With a little giggle) Aw, Harry, come 
on ! (She pulls him around and down beside her.) 

Harry. Come on, yourself. What do you want? 
Another? (Starts to kiss her again.) 

Grace. (Ducking coyly) What're you doin'? 
With Mary here and everything! 



THE STORE 17 

Mary. (Who has been staring fixedly at the lit- 
tle shining glows of light coming through the slates 
in the stove door) Go right ahead. I'm minding 
my own business. 

Harry. See, old girl. She ain't paying no at- 
tention. Come on, kiss me. 

Grace. Aw, go on. (Kissing him.) 

(TIarry puts one arm clumsily around her. Grace 
leans up against him.) 

Mary. You want me to get out? 

Grace. Ain't no use. Just as soon as Pa and 
Ma come in we're going to tell them about our 
wanting to get married. Ain't we, Harry ? 

Harry. Sure thing ! Right away. Say, what do 
you think happened to me to-day ? 

Grace. Have you got a raise, Harry? Have 
you? 

Harry. Ain't you the smart one, though ? Yap, 
that's it. Got a raise and a change of job. I'm one 
of the De Lux Manufacturing Company's city 
agents now ! 

Grace. City agent! Don't that sound swell? 
What do you have to do ? 

Harry. Oh, I go out from the office every morn- 
ing to all the drug stores in town and get the orders 
for the De Lux brand soap and tooth paste and 
things. 

Mary. Pretty good job, Harry, ain't it? You 
haven't been with the De Lux people for very long. 

Harry. Nope, and I tell you I felt pretty big 
when the boss called me in and told me I was a first- 
rate hand for business. 

Grace. Should think you might have. Gee, I'm 
proud of you. 

Harry. I ain't got so very much of a salary yet, 
but I guess by going slow, we can scratch along. 



1 8 THE STORE 

Grace. You bet we can. 

Harry. We can get a couple of rooms to live 
somewhere, and we'll be together. 

Grace. Oh, Harry, I can hardly wait. 

Harry. It sure is going to be nice. I'll be com- 
ing home at night with my lists and things and after 
we've had supper, you'll help me with them, check- 
ing them off and getting things straight. 

Grace. Will you have to bring work home nights, 
Harry? 

Mary. What you want to make Grace work for ? 
She's done her share and more, too, right here in 
this store. 

Harry. I don't want to make her work. . I 
thought that she being such a good hand at things 
like that would be a help, that's all. 

Grace. (With a tiny sigh) Sure, I'll help you, 
Harry. I want to help you. 

Mary. She don't want to do any such thing, 
Harry, and don't you make her. 

Harry. I ain't going to make her, am I? (Anx- 
ious to change the subject) Say, you know I think 
your Pa's on to the fact that we want to get mar- 
ried. 

Grace. What makes you think that? 

Harry. To-day when my boss was telling me 
about my new job, he asks me if I knew Mr. Dicky. 
Your Pa had been inquiring of him what kind of a 
feller I was, hard worker, good business head and 
the like. The boss gives me the wink and says he 
gave me a good send-off. 

Grace. What do you suppose Pa was up 
to? 

Harry. Kinda finding out about his future son- 
in-law, don't you think? 

Grace. Well, I never! 

Harry. Thought you said we was going to have 
a lot of trouble with your Pa? 



THE STORE tg 

Grace. Don't look that way. Not if your boss 
said you was a promising young man. 

Mary. I wouldn't be too sure. You never can 
tell what Pa's going to do. 

Grace. Shush. Here they come now ! 

(Enter Mrs. Dicky from the store, holding the door 
open and talking back to Mr. Dicky.J 

Mrs. D. That's done at last. Thought we never 
was going to get them slips and money checked up. 
Why, here's Harry! 

(Enter Mr. Dicky. ) 

Mr. D. Sure enough ! Hello, Harry ! 

(Mr. Dicky is a large man with a round, red face, 
white hair and whiskers. He wears a derby hat 
well down on his head and you simply cannot 
imagine him zvith that hat off. A pair of gold- 
rimmed spectacles adorns his nose. A large, not 
too white butcher's apron covers his worn gray 
suit. He carries a money bag and strong box 
which he deposits on the desk. He seems en- 
tirely satisfied with himself and life in gen- 
eral.) 

Harry. Evening, Mr. Dicky. 

Mr. D. (Rubbing his hands and taking a stool 
near the stove) Takes us quite a time to get fixed 
up out there in the store after Saturday's trade. 
Fine day, wasn't it, girls ? 

Mary and Grace. Sure, Pa. 

Mr. D. Got all that fruit sold off I knew would 
spoil if it had to stand over Sunday, and I'd been out 
a nice sum of money. 

Mrs. D. (Anxiously) George back yet? 

Mary. Haven't seen him. 



2% THE STORE 

Mr. D. That boy's slower than molasses in Jan- 
uary. He's got to learn to step around a little live- 
lier. 

^Grace has been poking and nudging at Harry, who 
is now standing up, very much embarrassed.) 

Harry. Mr. Dicky. 

Mr. D. Well? 

Harry. Mr. Dicky 

Grace. Pa 

Mr. D. Come on. Speak out. 

Harry. (With a gulp) Grace and me want to 
get married. 

(There is a dead silence for a second.) 

Mrs. D. (With a little half sob) Not Grace, 
Harry, not Grace. She is only a baby. 

Mr. D. Shush ! Ma ! Grace is old enough, Lord 
knows. (He looks fixedly at Harry,) So the two 
of you want to get married? 

Harry. Yes, sir. 

Grace. Yes, Pa, we do. 

Mr. D. Let's see, now. What's your trade, 
young man? 

Harry. I work for the De Lux Manufacturing 
firm. 

Mr. D. De Lux. Oh, yes. De Lux. (As if 
thinking.) 

Harry. (Timidly) I got a raise to-day, sir. 

Grace. He's city agent now, Pa. 

Harry. The boss says I'm right in line for bet- 
ter jobs. I'm a good one, he thinks. 

Mrs. D. Harry's a good boy, Pa, a real good 
boy. 

Mr. D. (As if continuing along one line @f 
thought, more to himself than aloud) So Grace and 



THE STORE 21 

him want to be married. (Pause) Ever worked in 
a grocery store, young man ? 

Mary. (With a gasp, feeling what is coming) 
Pa! 

Harry. Use to help my dad in his when I was 
a kid. 

Mr. D. You've got a good business head and 
seem to be a hard worker. (Pause) Think I'll give 
Harry and Grace the branch store to run, Ma ! 

Mrs. D. (As if she must say something ) Sakes, 
what an idea ! 

Mary. (Horror struck) Pa! Oh, Pa! 

Grace. (Who for a second cannot believe her 
ears, with a little hysterical shriek) Oh, Pa! 
Harry ! You mustn't ! Oh, you mustn't. (Stands 
clinging to Harry, sobbing.) 

Mr. D. Well, I'm blamed if I see anything to 
make a fuss about. Here I am offering this young 
man a good money-making proposition, and Grace 
is carrying on as if I was sending him to jail. 

Grace. (Through her sobs) Don't you see? It's 
the store, I was going to get out of it. Don't you 
see? 

Mr. D. Can't say as I do. But you listen here 
to my plans. When I seen that Harry was hang- 
ing around here most of the time, I goes to his boss 
and finds out that he's a real quick stepper and an 
all round business man. Then it pops into my head 
that he's just the sort I want to run the branch store. 
The two of you would make it go from the start. 

Mary. Sounds like you, Pa. 

Mr. D. (Not heeding) This feller ain't getting 
enough salary now to keep you decent. I'm giving 
the two of you a chance to get somewhere. 

Grace. (Against Harry's shoulder) Don't want 
a chance. 

Mrs. D. Ain't you ashamed, Grace, taking on 
this way and your Pa trying to do what's right ? 



<& THE STORE 

Grace. I ain't ashamed, I tell you, I ain't. 

Mr. D. I'll put up the capital, Harry, and do the 
stocking up and you and me will share the profits. 

Harry. But you see, Mr. Dicky, Grace « 

Mr. D. And they're going- to be big profits, too. 
That store's in one of them districts of swells where 
you can shoot up the price and not get a murmur. 

Grace. Oh, Harry, don't! Don't do it! 

Harry. It sure looks like a good thing. Now 
if Grace 

Mr. D. You'll be making money from the very 
start. You know enough about things to begin on 
and Grace knows the business from A to Z. 

Grace. Harry, don't take it. Say you won't ! 

Harry. But, Grace, you'll be wanting nice things 
and lots of money. Here's our chance. 

Grace. No, I won't. I want to get out of the 
store, that's all. 

Harry. (Clumsily patting her) Just to get a 
start, little girl, just to get a start. But it's big 
money, right away, and you and me will be working 
together. 

Mrs. D. See now, Grace, Harry wants to do the 
right thing by you. 

( George has entered from the street door and joins 
the group around the stove,) 

George. Gosh, what's up? (No attention is paid 
to him.) 

Mr. D. I've been looking for a capable young 
man like you, Harry. 

Grace. I've been all my life in the store and I 
was thinking I was gettin' out. 

Harry. It won't be all our lives. Don't you see ? 
Just to get a start. Think of the money we'll be 
makin\ There's heaps of money in grocery stores. 
It's slow work with them De Lux people. Why, I 



THE STORE 23 

know fellows who've been working for them years 
and they ain't getting no more than eighty dollars a 
month. 

Mr. D. Eighty dollars don't go very far these 
days. 

Harry. And the store'll be paying right away. 
We can have a nice little flat and a Ford and go 
out into the country, Sundays. We'll be real swells, 
you wait and see. 

Grace. A Ford would be nice. 

Harry. Yes, and a 

Mr. D. Quit your coaxing, Harry. You leave 
Grace to me. Now, see here, Grace Dicky, we've 
had enough fooling. Do you want to marry Harry ? 
Do you love him ? 

Grace. Yes — yes, I do. 

Mr. D. All right! You either take Harry as 
manager of the branch Dicky Grocery Store or you 
leave him. Do you understand? 

Grace. Yes, I suppose 

Mr. D. All right, then, do you take Harry, such 
being the case, or leave him ? 

Grace. (Choking down her sobs) I — take him. 
Harry ! Oh, Harry ! (Buries her face in his shoul- 
der.) 

Harry. The store won't be so bad, kid, you wait 
and 

Grace. It's the same old store, that's all. 

Mary. (In an undertone to Grace ) You've had 
your chance to fight. Look what you've done. 

Grace. It's Harry, Mary. I can't leave Harry. 
He's mine. I can't leave him. 

Mary. Oh, well 

Mr. D. I don't see what you've got against the 
store anyways. 

Mary. You wouldn't see, Pa. You wouldn't, be- 
cause the store's everything to you and nothing to 
Grace and George and me. 



24 THE STORE 

Mrs. D. Mary, what talk ! 

Mary. Wait a shake, Ma, till I'm through. We 
kids have worked here all our lives, worked hard. 

Mr. D. I suppose you're going to say I never 
gave you no schooling. 

Mary. Well, we never went to school one day 
longer than we had to. And look at George here. 
He isn't getting half a chance. 

Mr. D. He's getting all he needs, ain't he? 

Mary. He's not, and you know it. His teacher 
says he could be a terrible smart mechanic or some- 
thing like that if he had the training. 

Mrs. D. Yes, Pa, George ought to get more 
learning. He'll be first rate, like teacher says. 

Mr. D. (In disgust) A mechanic. Who wants 
to be a mechanic anyways ? That ain't nothing. 

George. Gee, Pa, it's fun making things and see- 
ing them work. 

Mr. D. (Indulgently) I guess, George, you'll 
find the grocery store good enough for you. It's 
been good enough for me always. 

Mary. That's it. It's been store, store, store, 
from morning till night. You never talk about 
nothing else, Pa ! 

Mr.'D. Well, what of it? 

Mary. You've been making money, lots of 
money, and it's been no use. to us because we had to 
go right on working like pack horses. 

Mr. D.. Don't we own our own pew at church? 
Don't you girls have good silk dresses to wear to 
church? Don't we come in Sundays and have a 
first-class dinner cooked by your Ma? And what 
about Sunday afternoons, don't you have, them 
free? 

Mary. We're too dog tired to care when Sunday 
comes. 

Grace. And what do we do Sunday nights. Pa 
Dicky, what do we do then ? 



THE STORE 25 

Mr. D. Why, we work in the store. Got to get 
the place fit for Monday morning, haven't we? 

Mrs. D. (Trying to smooth things along) 
Someone's got to do the work. 

Mary. We don't need to work ourselves into the 
grave, Ma, while Pa piles up the money. 

Grace. He could hire someone in to help, you 
know he could. 

Mary. Do you see now, Pa, why Grace hates 
the store? Why we all hate it? Why we all want 
to get out? It's been working us to death all our 
lives and we haven't had one blame thing in 
return. 

Mrs. D. (Timidly) They have worked pretty 
hard, Pa, all of them. 

Mr. D. Worked hard? Lord, Ma, they don't 
know what hard work means. Think how we 
worked to gtt this store started. We've gone hun- 
gry, Ma. Didn't have enough to eat sometimes, so 
we could buy some more stock for the store. We've 
been the hard workers, you and me, not them. 

Mrs. D. We didn't have the money then, we 
have now. Does sort'a seem that things should be 
easier for the children. 

Mr. D. Easy, Ma ? Why, it is easy. They're not 
working themselves to death as I can see. 

Mrs. D. Couldn't you have paid help so they'd 
have more free time to enjoy themselves in? 
They're young, Pa. They're still children. 

Mr. D. (Scornfully) Do you think there'd be 
any money if I paid it all out in wages? 

Mary. There ought to be some. But you haven't 
paid it out and you ain't going to. You're using it 
to start a branch store — more work ! (Between her 
teeth) Oh, I hope it fails ! I hope it fails ! 

Mr. D. (Aroused) See here, Mary, I've had 
enough of this. The money's mine, ain't it, to do 
with as I please? 



26 THE STORE 

George. (Under his breath) I'd like to know 
who made it for you ? 

Mrs. D. George, you shouldn't say such things. 

Mr. D. (Turning on GeorgeJ What did you 
say? 

George. Nothin\ 

Mr. D. George, you answer me. What did you 
say? 

George. Nothin', Pa. Nothin'. 

Mr. D. Tell me what you said, George Dicky! 

George. (Sulkily) Well — I said I thought we'd 
made the money for you. 

Mr. D. (With great scorn) Oh, you do, do you ? 
A great slow poke like you, making my money ! 
Suppose you kids don't think I saved and worked 
and pinched to get this store started in the first 
place. You'd be begging in the street this minute, 
every one of you, if it weren't for this store and 
my money. Why, I pay out every cent you earn for 
me, feeding you and clothing you and buying your 
books for school and keeping a roof over our head. 
I ask you now : "Is it my money ?" 

Mary. Good Lord, yes. It's your money, but 
you haven't come by it right. 

Mr. D. Mary Dicky, do you know what you're 
saying ? 

Mary. Yes, and I mean it, what's more. You 
haven't come by your money right. 

Mr. D. I'm as honest a man in trade as there is 
in this town. You ask anyone. 

Mary. Sure, you're honest enough with your 
customers and your creditors, but you ain't honest 
with your children. 

Harry, Whew ! Mary 

Mary. (With a snap) You mind your own 
business, Harry. 

George. We do make Pa's money for him, don't 
we, Mary? 



THE STORE 27 

Mary. That's what I'm trying to tell him. 
George has it just right. We make the money for 
you and you keep it from us and make us go on 
working for you. There's where you ain't honest. 

Mrs. D. Haven't you been a little too hard on 
them, Pa? 

Mr. D. Ma, you leave this to me. 

Mary. If you were honest, Pa, you wouldn't 
be forcing Grace to go and slave in that branch 
store if she wants Harry. If you were honest you'd 
be letting George be a mechanic. 

George. I don't want to work in no grocery 
store, Pa. Gosh, I hate them. I've got a right to 
be a mechanic if I want to. 

Mary. If you were honest you wouldn't let me 
and Ma work ourselves into the grave in your old 
store. 

Mrs. D. (Gathering strength from the children) 
We get dreadful tired. 

Mary. Sure we get tired ! So tired that it don't 
seem as if we could drag ourselves upstairs at night: 
so tired that we go to sleep with our clothes on. 

Mrs. D. Women folks shouldn't work as hard as 
that, Pa. 

Mary. None of it need be if Pa'd only be straight 
with us. 

Mr. D. I'm damned if you shall say that! 

Mary. It's the truth ! 

Mr. D. I am straight with you. I am honest 
with you. I tell you, it costs — all you're worth to 
me in the store to keep you, to feed you and clothe 
you. 

George. That ain't true ! That ain't so ! 

Mary. Do you mean that, Pa Dicky? 

Mr. D. I mean that, young lady. (Pause.) 

Mary. All right, then. I'm getting out. 

Mr. D. What do you mean? 

Mary. (Paying no heed) Come on, George, 



28 THE STORE 

and you, Ma. Grace's got Harry, she can't leave 
him. But we can go. We can work somewhere 
else. When we've earned the money, it'll be ours to 
spend as we choose. 

George. I'm with you, Mary. 

Mary. What's the sense of working in this store 
when we're not getting one cent? If all I've done 
for Pa in this store ain't but barely enough to keep 
me then I'm going out and keep myself . 

Mr. D. What do you think you can earn? 

Mary. You just said I was earning enough for 
you, to pay for my keep. I can get that in some- 
one else's store and I wouldn't be surprised if there 
was a little more besides. Come on, Ma, let's go. 

Mrs. D. Leave your father, Mary? 

Mary. Why rot? 

Mrs. D. Mary, I can't. 

Mary. Aw, come on. It'll bring him to his 
senses. He won't be able to get another soul on 
earth to work for him as we have done. He'll have 
to pay out his precious old money in wages. In 
wages, Ma, for the first time in his life! 

Mrs. D. It don't seem right, somehow. 

Mary. It's as right as he is. 

Mr. D. (Threateningly) Mary, you be careful. 

Mrs. D. I've been married to your Pa for 'most 
thirty years. 

Mary. What's that? It ain't been thirty years 
of joy, I'll bet. Ma, he's being the death of you, of 
all of us with his confounded old store. It's time we 
got out. 

Mrs. D. (With a frightened sob) I can't. 

Mary. Don't, then. We're going. Come, 
George ! (She moves toward the door.) 

Mr. D. You think you're awful smart, young 
lady, don't you ? 

Grace. (Scared) You ain't going to-night, 
Mary? 



THE STORE a§ , 

Mary. Yes, I am. I'm getting rid of this store. 
I ain't going to stay near it no longer. I'm going to 
be free. (She opens the door.) 

Grace. But where will you be? It's late. 

Maby. Oh, Uncle Alf'll take us in. To-morrow 
morning early we can start looking for jobs. 

Harry. Say, Mary, see here 

Mary. I don't want to hear nothing from you, 
Harry. You're a nice one, you are. Here's Grace 
thinking she was getting rid of the store and you 
taking her right back into it. You ought to be 
ashamed. 

Harry. But you've got to have money, Mary. 
You've got to live decent. I won't have Grace work- 
ing with me long. Gee, we've got to have money 
enough to live on. 

Grace. Harry's right, Mary. Don't you see? 

Mary. Live on the store money if you want to. 
I don't. Come on if you're coming, George. Here's 
your chance. (She swings the door back and forth.) 

George. (With a chuckle) Say, ain't it a good 
one on Pa? 

(Mrs. Dicky has been sitting staring straight in 
front of her.) 

Mr. D. (Absolutely conscious thai he is playing 
his trump card) What about 3^our mother, Mary? 

Grace. You said, Mary, you said Ma'd be 
worked to a frazzle. 

Mary. (Turning) Ma ! Oh, Ma ! 

Mr. D. (Watching his effect) Yes, what about 
your Ma ? What's she to do with all you kids gone 
and Grace at the branch store? Who's going to 
help her with the work? 

Mrs. D. (Shaking herself) Don't stay for me, 
Mary, don't stay! I see it all now, just as plain. 
It's been my fault, all my fault. I was as crazy as 



30 THE STORE 

your Pa once about the money and the store. Moth- 
ers should see to their children and not let them be 
worked to death. Don't mind me. It's right for 
you to go. Open the door, Mary. Give George, 
anyways, his chance. 

George. Ain't you coming-, Mary? 

Mary. (Slowly) We can't, George, we can't. 

Mrs. D. (Crying into her apron) Oh, Mary, ain't 
you going ? 

Mary. (Shutting the doar) Don't cry, Ma. 
There ain't nothing to cry about. 

Mr. D. Of course they ain't going. Who ever 
heard of such foolishness? They've got a good 
home here. What do they want to leave it for? 

George. (Stilt at the door) Aw, I say ! 

Mr. D. The trouble with you kids is that you 
don't know what you're working for. My plan's 
this. I've been keeping it a secret. It ain't going 
to be one branch store but a chain of branch stores, 
with my name, George Dicky, over every door. 
That's what I'm saving for and what you're work- 
ing for and I want it understood. 

Mary. (Wearily) Oh, that's all right, Pa, that's 
all right. 

(The telephone rings sharply. Mr. Dicky goes.) 

Mr. D. Yes, Mrs. Evans — you haven't got your 
oranges ? The boy's on the way now — he must have 
been delayed. He ought to be there any minute. 
Oh, yes — yes, you'll get them all right — good night. 

f Mr. Dicky picks up a bag hastily and fills it zviih 
oranges from a box, handing it to George. ) 

Mr. D. Here, George, you take these oranges 
up to Mrs. Evans's and get a move on, 



THE STORE 31 

("George takes oranges and exits like a streak. 
Mrs. Dicky starts to pull down the shades and 
straighten up the desk. The girls and Harry 
sit staring at the stove, Harry patting Grace 
occasionally on the back and holding her hand. 
Mary sits much bent over, with her head in her 
hand. Mr. Dicky takes out his pipe and fills 
it.) 

CURTAIN 



\ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



Vassar Series t~ 



SALLIE FOR KEEPS 

Play in 1 act by Frances M. Jackson. 4 males, 1 
female. Modern costumes. 1 interior. Plays 45 min- 
utes. 

Double personalities are always interesting and often 
dramatic, but what of a Triple personality? That is the 
principal character in "SALLJ'E FOR KEEPS" a viva- 
cious comedy, offering marvelous opportunities to a , 
bright young actress. 

In the Vassar Series of plays, with notes on stag- 
ing and acting. Price, 35 cents. 

THE STORE 

A play in 1 act by Elizabeth Kellam. 3 males, 3 fe- 
males. Modern Costumes. 1 interior. Plays 50 min- 
utes. 

A cleverly drawn picture of six human beings, the 
most ambitious of which struggle to free themselves 
from the eternal drudgery of everyday existence. Splen- 
did character portrayal. 

In the Vassar Series of Plays with notes on staging 
and costumes. Price, 35 cent*. 

MASKS AND MEN 

Play in 1 act by Sarah H'umason. 8 males (4 soldiers), 
1 female. 1 interior. 18th century costumes. Plays 
50 minutes. 

A clever little play of intrigue and adventure, through 
which the guiding hand of a woman conducts a thrill- 
ing plot. 

In the Vassar Series of Plays with notes on costumes 
and staging. Price, 35 cents. 

BAD DEBTS 

Drama in 1 act by Margaret Searle. 3 males, 2 females. 
1 interior. Modern costumes. Plays 45 minutes. 

A strong little domestic drama of modern American 
middle class life. Will appeal especially to advanced . 
amateurs, college groups and little theatres. 

In the Vassar Series of Plays with notes on costumes 
and staging. Price, 35 cents. 

The Lighting of the Christmas Tree 

Play in 1 act, adapted from a story of Selma Dagelot 
by Josephine Palmer and Annie L». Thorp. 5 males, 2 
females. Modern Swedish peasant costumes. 1 interior. 
Plaj's 45 minutes. 

A beautiful little legendary play, based upon the fam- 
ous Swedish novelist's story, "THE CHRISTMAS GUEST." 
A touchingly beautiful plaj\ 

In the Vassar series of plays, with notes on costumes 
and staging. Price, 35 cents. 



